


Bruce Wayne is a cat lady

by FluffyPuffySheeps



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: All the batkids are cats, Cats!AU, Except steph, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not the musical - Freeform, Sleepy Cuddles, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24888745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyPuffySheeps/pseuds/FluffyPuffySheeps
Summary: Bruce Wayne never gets a Robin.Instead, he gets a cat. Named Dick.He gets a lot of cats (there's a lot of batkids).How Bruce Wayne met each of his cats, and his daughter.
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 16
Kudos: 193





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I... don't know what this is. Inspired by fanart that I'll link later, tomorrow probably. 
> 
> I WROTE SOMETHING THAT ISN'T ABOUT JUST TIM. I'm so proud of me. Even if this is the weirdest thing ever.
> 
> The Working title of this work was: Cats the movie but fixed b/c there isn't singing and here's batkids and actually has nothing to do with the plot of Cats at all 
> 
> Here. Read. Be as confused as I am.

He finds Dick wandering the circus fairgrounds.

The sight of a cat- no, not a cat, a small kitten- wandering the fairgrounds alone is strange enough. But even stranger is the way the small cat doesn’t seem to react to the audience at all. He’s a very friendly kitten, squeezing up to people’s legs, tickling them with his shockingly cold wet nose. The circus performers don’t think it strange at all. In fact, many of them offer treats or pets whenever he walks up.

Eventually, he feels brave enough to approach one of the performers- one of the acrobats that is the star of this circus, The “Flying Graysons”.

“Oh!” She says with a bright smile and thick accent. “That’s my little kitten. His name is Richard, but we call him Dick. He is very friendly, you can pet, if you want?”

Bruce never saw the appeal in cats, or pets of any kind, before. But as the little chestnut kitten with white paws pads his way over to him, rubbing cat hair all over his designer pants, Bruce finds himself accepting her invitation. He bends over to run a hand through the glossy fur, and little Dick arches his back to press into the contact.

It is very cute. Bruce may need to think about revising his stance on cats.

Later, when the circus is burning and people are screaming, when he has watched two acrobats fall to their deaths, Bruce will walk away saddened that such an innocent encounter can turn sour.

But such is the way of Gotham.

Even later, Bruce finds himself on the grounds, there for a very different purpose than to watch. The grounds have burned to ashes- and it quickly becomes clear it was not done on accident. Someone had cut the lines of the acrobats, but for whatever reason, set the entire tent on fire as well. Strange.

He is sifting through the ashes when he hears a very familiar meow.

Cautiously, Bruce lifts a board, and finds a small kitten trapped underneath. Dick looks up at him with wobbly eyes, lets out a pitiful ‘mew’, then promptly clambers onto Bruce’s lap.

Really, what else was he supposed to do other than take him home?

___________________________

Evidently, there were plenty of other options, judging by Alfred’s passive aggressive comments for the next few weeks. (“The cat hair alone, Master Bruce. We have _antique_ furniture) But they gradually disappear over the next few months, and when Bruce spies Alfred dishing out homemade cat food, he knows Alfred’s been just as sucked in as he has.

The next two years are good, too. Bruce goes out at night, returns to a small cat, and finds himself falling asleep on his bed more and more, mostly due to a lithe, furry ball. Of course, Dick tends to climb all over him at the most inopportune moments. Justice League video call? Dick finds his way onto top of the keyboard. Book? Dick climbs on top, sticks his bum in Bruce's face, and demands attention.

He demands a _lot_ of attention. 

But it's good.

That is, until the day Bruce returns to an alleyway where he'd parked Batmobile. He stops and stares at the car.

There is a cat.

Napping on his car.

On the _hood_ of his car.

He's (it looks like a he, but Bruce would have to check) a handsome looking cat, small and cute and a little ball of black fur huddled up. The kitten's extremely dirty- so dirty that Bruce can almost see the fleas jumping off of him. Bruce tentatively approaches, hand outstretched, Dick responds well to that-

  
_**Hissss!!!!** _  
  


Clearly, this cat is not Dick.

The black kitten jumps up at the sound of his steps, and snarls at him, back arching. Bruce instantly backpedals, holding his hands out, muttering some nonsense in a soothing tone. The cat stops hissing, but glares at him and remains in the attack pose. Now that he’s standing up, Bruce can see the ratty fur and too thin appearance. He’s (still not sure if it’s a she) obviously malnourished and afraid of strangers.

The black kitten snarls one last time, then goes to strut away. Except- not quite, because as he goes to jump, his leg collapses. Bruce rushes forward, all caution abandoned. He avoids the kitten’s teeth as best he can- and, well, there is a reason he has gauntlets. He can’t feel it underneath all the armor.

The cat’s leg is definitely broken. There is no way he’ll be able to survive on the streets with that kind of injury. It’s a miracle as is that there’s not a dead cat in the gutter right now.

He shouldn’t though.

He really, really shouldn’t.

Bruce picks up the cat and takes him home.

After a checkup, a surgery, and perhaps the hardest thing of all, a conversation with Alfred, Jason (named after a young boy who had been found dead on the streets, another victim of Gotham’s underbelly, the boy whose case Bruce had been working that night) settles right in. Yes, there’s some...trouble when he meets Dick. It’ll all work out in the end though, Dick’s very affectionate.

That first meeting was loud, full of hissing, and posturing. So was the second meeting. So was the third. Eventually, Dick begins to spend less and less time inside the Manor itself, and more time outside. It takes a while for Bruce to successfully tail his cat (he doesn’t, really. He’s pretty sure Dick knew he was following and was being indulgent), and he finds out that Dick’s been meeting with another cat, who looks strangely like the cat that lives at Gotham PD, Barbara. Actually, that _is_ Barbara.

Bruce tries not to think about that.

Jason settles in slowly but surely, becoming familiar with the Manor. He comes down to the Cave far more often than Dick, meowing every time Bruce comes home injured or smells weird. Or just to mess with him, Bruce doesn’t know. At the very least, once Jason is comfortable enough with him, Alfred and Bruce discover that Jason is a _loud_ cat, not afraid to whine for what he wants. They also discover that under all that dirt, Jason is actually a ginger tabby.

One day, Bruce finds himself in the Cave’s medbay, waking up slowly from some injury. With a groan, he positions his arms to push himself up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alfred calls out softly. 

“I’m _fine_ , Alfred.” Bruce grumbles, and he blinks open his eyes. “It wasn’t a big cut, I should- _oh_.”

Jason is on his chest, curled up in a tight ball, softly purring. Bruce haltingly lift a hand, then pets Jason calmly, in awe at the sight of his little guy trusting him enough to be that close to him.

Bruce doesn’t end up moving for the next three hours.

Eventually, and it takes a year, Dick warms up to Jason. It’s a good, no, perfect day when Bruce wakes up to both of them curled up on his bed, Dick basically on top of his face, and Jason slumped by the top of his head.

Bruce is starting to understand why people think of their cats as children.

Things couldn’t get much better.

_________________

He was right- things didn’t get better.

In fact, they got far, far worse.

It all starts on the day Bruce comes home to a missing Jason. Which isn’t much of a concern, at first, but as the days start to pass, and the microchip isn’t located, and none of his missing cat posters are answered, Bruce’s hope starts to die. It’s pretty much gone when he finds a dead cat on the side of the road who, though half decomposed, looks enough like Jason that it was clear he was dead.

Dick stops coming inside at all.

Alfred takes to spending his days off volunteering at a cat shelter.

Bruce- it wasn’t like it was his kid, right? Except, it sort of was. Bruce buries himself in his work, solving cases faster than ever, beating the members of an exotic animal trafficking ring nearly to death. He turns away a purple themed blond vigilante who asks for his help, narrowly avoids seeing Dick around the Manor, who reminds him of a certain lost cat and seems to blame him for it, and tries to forget.

That is, until the day Bruce is taking a walk around the gardens, and hears a small ‘mrow’. For a second, his heart pounds a little faster, his breath quickens, and he picks up the pace to push back bushes till he finds-

Not Jason.

Instead, it is a small grey kitten that takes one look at him and lets out a small kitten sneeze.

Gosh, that is _cute_ , that is the most _adorable_ thing he has ever witnessed. Bruce almost scoops the little guy up in his arms right then and there. He’s a cuddle- able ball of fur, though entirely wet and miserable looking. After a second, the small kitten lets out another sneeze, then another, and it becomes clear that the grey cat is sick.

Bruce promised himself he wouldn’t do this again.

But the cat is clearly sick. He’ll simply take him back to the Manor, call up the veterinarian, and take him to a shelter. That’s all. That’s it. He’s not going through another Jason.

“He’s got a microchip.” Dr. Leslie, the veterinarian, says at his check- up. “Belongs to a Mr. and Mrs. Drake. His name is Timothy, though the nickname listed is Tim. How did you find him, Bruce?”

“He was in my yard, under a bush. Can you contact the Drakes, see if they can take him back? Tim seems really sick.”

“He is.” Leslie confirms. “I’d prescribe antibiotics and the lot, but we haven’t been able to get to the Drakes. We did manage to get to their assistant, and he said they’d be back in three months.”

She hesitates for a second, then adds “Their assistant also mentioned they hadn’t hired anyone to take care of their cat, and didn’t intend to. Bruce, do you think you could take care of him, at least until the Drakes return?”

It’s just for a few months.

That’s what Bruce keeps repeating to himself for the next few weeks.

Tim’s initial meeting with Dick is heated- the older cat, now lithe, fur darkened to an even darker, glossy shade of chestnut brown, muscles from living outdoors visible, is not happy that another cat is living with them. But when Tim flinches away from the snarl, Dick tones it down. It’s not even a few days when the two can be spotted curled up together on the couch, Dick grooming Tim’s fur. Dick starts to come over more and more now that Tim has moved in, and is constantly with him.

It’s a good night when Dick leaps onto his bed again and drags Tim with him. They don’t cuddle with him- in fact, the pair spends the night as far away as possible from Bruce, but it’s certainly relieving that Dick no longer hates him so much.

Tim’s a quiet cat, but after numerous near panic attacks, two things become clear- One, Tim absolutely loves to fall asleep in the weirdest places, following the ‘If it fits I sits’ methodology religiously, and Two, is almost more of a cuddler than Dick. It’s subtle, the way he goes about it, but as soon as Bruce shows any sort of interest, he’s burrowed up next to him, cute little ball of fur that he is. 

He also is the absolute sweetest creature on the planet, who seems to magically sense whenever Bruce feels extra defeated, and nudges him to get up and get moving.

Makes him wonder, though, what kind of owners the Drakes are, that the little kitten seems absolutely terrified when he knocks a vase of the counter.

Alfred merely sighs and starts a well-remembered routine.

______________________

When the Drakes come back, Bruce finds himself strangely reluctant to give up his young friend. He pushes past it though, and hands Tim off. There’s no lingering worry for Tim, if he’s still healthy, if he’s going into a good situation. No, of course not, Tim is going back to the people he loves most. To his original owners.

And Bruce is _not_ brooding.

Not at all.

“And here class, is a wild, moping Batman!”

Bruce turns and glares at the Purple… dressed? Robed? Her costume is not conventional by any means. She’s the vigilante Spoiler that had appeared on the streets only a few months ago, declaring her fight against her father. Impulsive, brash, and confident, he’d cleared up the case with her father and told her to go home quicklyloud.

“Stephanie Brown. I told you not to come back on the streets.”

She shrugs. “No can do. Now that you’ve locked my old man up, I’m literally living on the streets.”

_What._ Of all the things Bruce had been expecting, that nonchalant response had not been it. 

“What about your mother?”

Stephanie looks uncomfortable, suddenly. “Home invasion. One of my old man’s associates thought he’d get revenge on his wife, and his gun misfired, and…. Here I am.”

That’s not good. That’s really, really not good. 

“Do you…” Bruce says carefully. “Do you need a place to stay? What about foster families, CPS?”

“They’d come back.” Stephanie says. “The men. They’re still looking for me, my contacts on the streets heard about. I would go to a foster family, but I don’t…” She looks away, the natural inborn confidence that is Stephanie Brown suddenly shrinking and giving place to a grief that Bruce knows all to well. “I don’t want anyone else to stay.”

And maybe it’s the loss of Jason, or the lingering sadness that Tim’s no longer around, or maybe it’s simply because it’s a Wednesday, but Bruce stands up and holds out a hand towards her. 

“What if you… What if you stayed with me? I could keep you safe.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Dude, no offense, but you’re a strange guy whose name I don’t even know. No. But thanks, for the offer.”

At that, Bruce reaches up and pulls off his cowl.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

____________________

Dick seems to like Stephanie well enough, and treats her as another person he meets. Alfred takes to her like she’s his granddaughter, which would make Bruce her…

He’s not sure he’s ready for those words yet. He’s not sure Steph is either.

And she’s not a cat, but that makes it all the harder and easier and more beautiful to have her around. They have waffle breakfasts every weekend now, and Steph is in school, and Bruce gets to hear all about her new teacher and this friend she’d made named Harper. She begs him for more training, and with great reluctance, Bruce starts to train her as well as he can in self defense- she’s fourteen, though, he’s not letting her out onto the streets. At the most, he allows her to run coms every night to let her feel like she’s helping.

(They both know that as soon as she hits eighteen, she’s going out with or with out his permission)

It’s not easy. He’s not going to pretend it is. She screams at him, for not understanding, for not caring enough. He goes to bed some nights frustrated at her impulsiveness. They both fail to connect, misunderstand each other all the time. But he buys far more parenting books than he probably needs, she goes and visits her mother’s grave, and both of them talk it out with Alfred. She sasses him, he replies in dry humor, and slowly, slowly, they learn to live with each other.

At some point, Tim starts showing up around the house. The first time, Bruce returns him to the Drakes. The Drakes aren’t around. He doesn’t take him back again.

Steph becomes Tim’s new favorite for a few months. When Steph finds out he has a cat, (two, really, Tim is basically his now) she laughs for a long, long time.

“Bruce Wayne? Crazy cat lady?” She giggles- no, Stephanie Brown does not giggle, she outright barks out laughter. “The tabloids would love to hear this one. I can see the headline now: Bruce Wayne- inspiration to grandmas everywhere!”

“Shhhh.” Bruce says, smiling a little himself. “Don’t let the cats hear you talk about them that way. You don’t want to offend them.”

“What? Do you think they are watching us right now?”

Bruce fixes her with a look. “Yes.” He says seriously. “They are always watching.”

“Don’t be such a drama-”  
  


“Mrow.”

They both freeze and turn. Crawling out from under the couch is Tim, Dick, and an unfamiliar pure black, sleek, cat with vivid green eyes, who pins them with him- her? Gaze. Dick immediately leaps onto the couch , stretching out so that both of them could pet him, but Tim and the unfamiliar cat stay huddled together on the ground, staring at them.

“Holy sh**.” Steph breathes. “You were right. That’s freaky.”

“One of those…” Bruce begins slowly. “Is not my cat.”

Tim snuggles closer to the black cat in response.

Alfred sweeps into the room, not looking surprised in the least, and sets out another bowl of food for the new cat. “I believe you no longer are capable of making that decision, Master Bruce. She seems quite settled in.”

The new cat jumps up onto Steph’s lap, and Tim goes into his. Bruce is left with nothing but acceptance of his new addition.

_______________

Steph names her (and yep, it’s a girl, though thankfully neither Tim nor Dick seemed interested in her, but rather seem to view her as a sister. At least, that’s what Bruce guesses they’re thinking. Cats are hard to read). Cass, short for Cassandra. It’s a nice name.

Cass spends a good deal of her time with either Steph or Tim- with Steph, his daughter is frequently talking to her about girl things. Even if Cass is girl _cat._ (Thank the heavens above Bruce did not have to help Steph through her first period. He is not qualified for that.) With Tim, they’re usually sleeping together in a puddle of fur. Cass is one of the most agile cats he’s ever met, fast too, and he’s frequently woken up to 3 a.m. (that is, when he gets to bed that early) running up and down the hallways like maniacs from Tim chasing Cass. But it’s really special when she graces him with her presence, calming and soothing.

She looks to be nothing more than another stray on Gotham’s streets, and she keeps showing up, so Cass eventually becomes a fixture of Wayne Manor.

Tim, similarly, moves in for good when the Drakes are pronounced dead from a plane crash in Haiti. Their cat is not mentioned in their will. No one notices that Tim is gone. For what will not be the last time, Bruce wonders why the Drakes ever got a cat at all.

Things are good. Too good.

He really should have seen the snarling, yowling mess in the hallway coming.

But how was he supposed to predict his supposedly dead cat not actually being all that dead after all?

It takes not only him and Steph, but Alfred, to separate the fight. He tried to hold Jason earlier, but the only one Jason seems to be able to tolerate right now is Alfred. In his surrogate father’s arms, Bruce finally gets a chance to take him in. 

Jason’s no longer a kitten anymore. Logically, Bruce knew that, but… He’s an adult cat now, large but not fat, still the orange tabby he knew. There’s a chunk bitten out of his ear, and numerous scars all over his body, but Jason looks… Good.

He’s back.

Bruce has a lot of questions, but more important right now is the other cat in Steph’s arms.

Tim is scratched up and bloody, meowing pitifully, even as Jason snarls at him from Alfred’s arms. The little cat, who also is no longer a kitten but hasn’t grown much, looks in serious danger. Bruce gets Alfred to take Tim to Leslie’s, then shuts him and Jason in a room.

It takes some time (over a day), but Jason finally ventures out and sniffs him. Bruce can’t pretend to even understand what’s going on Jason’s head right now, but he’s got hope. Hope that’ll all work out between his cats.

And it does. Dick near tackles him when they meet, and there’s a fight, but only days later the two of them can be found traversing the grounds outside. (And it will take another year before Jason and Tim work through whatever problem they were having, but once they do, they become agents of pure chaos). Cass and Jason circle each other warily, but Steph and Jason do ok in the same room. At least, they work together to steal Alfred treats.

Jason doesn’t stick around much after that initial fight- Bruce fancies he sees him sometimes, on the streets of Gotham, flanked by two other cats. And Jason still randomly hisses at him sometimes when he walks into the room. But, hey, he’s a cat. Bruce is constantly confused.

So movie night’s pretty good these days. Steph leans against his side, a young woman now, almost 18. Cass is happily curled up on her lap, licking and grooming a still very fluffy, very small Tim, who had started the night on Bruce’s lap but migrated. Dick was on Bruce’s lap. And Steph’s. And Alfred’s, for the short time he sat down. Now he’s rolling back and forth on the carpet, looking faintly like he got into the catnip again, eyes a bit maniac. 

He’ll be back to snuggle in a minute. That cat could never resist an open lap.

Jason tickles the back of his neck, where he’s perched on top of the couch, obstinately ignoring the humans below, but leaning and closer to Bruce every minute.

If the Justice League could see him now, they’d swear that Bruce had been brainwashed. But maybe it was time for him to, as Steph kept telling him, ‘embrace his inner cat lady’. Of course, if he was following all of Steph’s advice, he’d have changed the Batsuit to dark purples and gone on that date with Gotham’s resident cat lady herself, Selina.

“No!” Bruce suddenly shouts, as he finally realizes that Jason has long since hopped off and had been chewing on the newspaper on the table. “Jason! That’s not food!”

He successfully removes Jason, and sits back with a sigh, ignoring the glares of Steph, Tim, and Cass for jostling them. As soon as he sits down, Dick looks up at him and begins to meow.

“What is it, Dick?” He asks exasperated.

Dick just keeps meowing.

These cats.

Bunch of weirdos.

He takes a look at Steph, who’s transitioned to answering Dick’s meows with meows of her own. Jason, never one to resist an opportunity to be loud, joins in, until every single person in the room except Alfred and him are meowing.

Actually- Alfred gives him a look, eyes twinkling. “If you can’t beat them, join them, Master Wayne.” Then he gives out a meow of his own.

Bruce amends his statement.

This family.

Still a bunch of weirdos,

But he loves them all anyway.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, and Alfred goes to answer it, followed by a posse of cats and Steph. When he returns, his face looks faintly like he’s trying to keep from laughing, and his followers have disappeared.

“Master Wayne, there’s a Damian here to see you.”Alfred says gravely, but with that same twinkle in his eye.

“Yo, B, we’ve got another cat!” Steph shouts, skidding into the room.

Bruce sighs, and drops his head into his hands. Why.

As the group of cats trot into the room, Dick holding a tiny white maine coon kitten in his mouth by the scruff of their neck, Bruce tries desperately to remember what he’d been thinking about a minute ago.

Right, He loves his family.

Tim, yowls, Dick lets out a warning growl, the new cat snarls, and Steph is laughing her full body laugh. 

Yep.

He loves his family.

  
  
  



	2. I forgot about duKE HERE HE IS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilerz_Alert commented that I forgot about Duke, here is my penance, probably a little OOC but srsly he's a cat, everyone's OOC, and I couldn't just leAvE hIm oUt.
> 
> Did I use the word penance right?

Duke joins them in a different way. A completely different, rather strange way. 

He’s at the office, looking over reports and idly petting Tim, when Lucius steps in. Tim, without fail, smuggles himself inside Bruce’s briefcase every time Bruce so much as breathes the word ‘office’. He loves the place. And without fail, Tim will take one of Bruce’s reports and run off with it. To eat it? To sleep on it? To pretend to work on it and copy Bruce? Bruce can’t even begin to guess.

Tim’s a cat. That’s enough of an explanation.

“Bruce, good to see you.” Lucius says warmly. “Have you seen the memo about the company holiday yet?”   
  


“No, I haven’t. What’s it about?” 

Lucius sighs. “So, you know how the board’s been pushing for a workplace celebration? Well, they finally got one to go through.”

Oh no.

Lucius meets his eyes, Bruce swears he can see the defeat in them. “We’re having a bring your pet to work day.”

Oh yes.

_______________

  
  


Bruce wrangles each of his cats, (five. Why are there so many?) into carriers and hauls them into work. They get through security easily enough, and enter into a madhouse- of dogs. Why would people bring dogs? Dogs are big and slobbery and a mess and not all that intelligent and-

He really  _ is  _ becoming a cat lady. 

They move up to his floor, which is blessedly free of dogs, and head to Lucius’s office. There’s no dogs there, either, but three new cats are perched on various high spots.

“Bruce! I didn’t actually think you’d bring your pets.’ Lucius says, then mumbles. “I didn’t actually think you had pets.”   
  
Bruce smiles. “Yeah, I figured the rest of the company would get a kick out of me having five cats. This is Dick, Jason, Cass, Tim, and the little guy’s Damian.”

As soon as he finishes introductions, Dick goes off to play with the new cats, Jason finds the one (1) sunny spot in the room, and sprawls out there. Cass lays right on top of Jason, and the ginger tabby is too afraid of Cass to move her. Damian stays inside the carrier, but Tim follows Dick’s examples and ambles off to meet the new cats.

“They’re very cute.” Lucius says. “Suppose you should meet my little family too. The one on top of the filing cabinet is Tiffany, she’s the eldest and not exactly interested in other cats. Tam’s the one who’s on top of my-” Lucius breaks off, dives to stop Tam from sitting on top of his keyboard, and sets her down on the ground- “On the ground, now, and Luke’s the guy who’s twining around your legs.”

Bruce glances down, and sure enough, the cat named Luke is rubbing against a pant leg. He’s a handsome gray tabby that looks at him knowingly. Weird. Tim’s gone off with the Tam cat, disappearing to who knows where, but Bruce whistles and gets the rest of his cats back into the carrier and down into his office, then releases them.

It’s a pretty chaotic morning, considering all the pets in the building- someone brought a parrot along, and they’ve been screaming profanities at their cubicle neighbor all morning. Apparently. Bruce squints at the complaint, hoping to make sense of the whys and hows and what in the world the board was thinking.

_ Creak _ .

At first, Bruce dismisses the sound for the old bones of the building simply settling, but when every single one of his cats freezes and looks up at the ceiling, well, it’s a scene straight of a horror movie. Four pairs of eyes staring directly at the lights. Bruce is about ready to call John Constantine and get him to check for ghosts.

_ Creeaaaakkk _ .

Four pairs of eyes switched to staring at  _ him.  _ Bruce had never been more terrified.

_ Squeak, squeak, sqeea- CRASH _ !!!

Bruce jumped about a foot in the air and did  _ not  _ squeal. It was a manly yelp. Yeah, definitely. Even if all of his cats were looking at him judgmentally.

Bruce looks up, where one of the ceiling panels had fallen from. A big calico cat with a very cute black little nose stares back at him, face peeking out from the pipes and lights. He lets out a little meow, and Dick answers back.

If Bruce had to guess, someone else’s cat had escaped, and found his way into the ceiling systems. He shuddered to think of the property damage. The  _ expenses _ . This day had been a terrible idea. Why did the board think of it?

Except, no, the cat does not belong to  _ anyone  _ in the building. Or any of the visitors. In the end, the only conclusion he comes away with is that a strange cat broke in, found his way to the ceiling, and managed to get all the way to Bruce’s floor without anyone noticing.

For the few days where Bruce tries to find the cat’s owner, the cat lives at W.E. When he realizes that the cat will have to be brought to a shelter, the entire upper staff, and plenty of the office workers, corner him in his office. So the cat stays, and is utterly spoiled by the entire staff. They name him Duke, because the cat could rule over the entire floor. Duke becomes the unofficial mascot of W.E. as well, and each of his cats seems to enjoy dragging Duke into their drama, on the rare nights Bruce brings Duke back to his house because of a long company holiday or Christmas holidays.

One thing he will say about Duke, though- he absolutely loves the little light spots that appear when light reflects from your phone screen. Duke runs all over, chasing his ‘signals’ as the office workers jokingly nickname them.

Movie nights are now one more cat bigger, who spends his time usually right in front of the tv, blocking the view. Sometimes, Dick will go over and cuddle with him, and the one time Bruce catsit for Lucius, Duke and Luke (Duke and Luke… it rhymes!) spend all their time hanging out with each other. The whole gang of cats take Duke into their fold rather seamlessly, even if Duke seems confused by their antics most of the time.

When he first brings him home, Steph takes one look, then levels him with a raised eyebrow. “Another one? Really? The others are going to start getting jealous.”   
  


“No they won’t.” Bruce says, then he notices every single cat is staring at him questioningly. “I mean- I love them all equally! They’re all my favorites!”

That seems to appease the pack of fur balls, but Bruce makes sure to spend time with each of them individually then on. Just because he doesn’t want any of them getting jealous. Has absolutely nothing to do with how entrenched the cats have become in his life.

At least there’s not going to be any more, now. No more cats.

“Master Bruce.” Alfred says, emerging from the hall. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Steph’s eyes brighten. “Oh, please tell me this is a Damian situation!”

“Not quite, Miss Stephanie. Master Bruce’s cousin, Miss Kate Kane, is here to see him.”   
  


He shouldn’t have specified cats. He should have said no more  _ people _ as well.

But Bruce sighs, nearly trips over Dick who darts out in front of him at the worst times, and heads to the door to add to his family.


End file.
